Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Much appreciated. I'm rewatching s10 right now (my first NCIS binge in a very long time) and that's helping fuel the writing binge. I think there is one more chapter in this to wrap up — hopefully next week.
I'm no longer sure if this is completely aligned with the timeline in the episode, which is normally a huge sticking point for me, but I don't super-want to re-watch the episode more than I already have. So all errors are mine. Similarly, Lipush very graciously helped me with the Hebrew here, but if it doesn't work in context, all mistakes are mine.
Happy reading!
He and Tali stayed at the park for nearly two hours, until the waning sun signaled they were probably needed at home. He picked up some rudimentary Hebrew based on what Tali was pointing at — leaf, tree, slides — as they'd played around the park. She'd even made friends with a little girl in a yellow windbreaker.
"Your daughter looks just like you," the other girl's mother said.
"My coloring, a little, but believe me — she's all her mother," he'd replied with a smile.
They ran a quick errand and headed home, where the kitchen — hell, the entire apartment — smelled better than ever, and he told Ziva that. "That is because your definition of cooking is to reheat a burrito," she said, left lip curling up. She was stirring what looked like a yellow cake mix by hand; a few cartons of berries and a bag of powdered sugar were stacked next to her.
He kissed the smirk off her face. "What do you need help with?" he asked.
She sighed deeply and banged the wooden spoon against the bowl to loosen batter. It slithered back with the rest of its batch. "I think that we are OK. The lasagna is in the oven. I have garlic bread to heat up. McGee said they would be over around 7 at the latest, and I have wine. This cake is for dessert and will go in soon. We also should probably clean up Tali's toys, and give her a bath of course, and we will need to set the table for at least nine —"
"Ziva. Slow down. You're going a mile a minute."
"Sorry," she sighed. "I am a little nervous," she confessed.
"Why? It's Abby and McGee and Bishop — I think you'll like her, actually — and Ducky and Palmer and my dad."
"I know," she said. "It has just been a while. And I have not exactly been honest. And Abby … Likes to express her feelings."
He squeezed her hand. "Don't worry about Abby." He had a feeling Gibbs would probably get to her. "It's logically impossible for it to go badly," he reassured her. "Just …"
"What?"
"What do you want to tell them?"
She lifted a shoulder. "Well they already know we broke most of Gibbs' rules."
"I mean about what's next. I'm not saying we need to tell them when the housewarming is—"
"What housewarming?"
"Well you said it yourself, this place is too small for the three of us."
"Yes but I think discussing a housewarming is far into the future."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I agree, Zee-vah," he drawled her name the way he hadn't in years. "That's why I said that. But they're going to ask what's next. And we don't know. So I am asking what we tell them until we do."
She rolled her eyes. "I do not see how that is any of their business."
"Sure you do. They're our friends. Hell, they're family. They want to know."
"Well. Let us tell them that a lot of things are happening very quickly, and there is still a lot to work out, but we are going to work on it together."
"We are, right?"
"Going to work on it? Yes."
"No. Together."
"Oh. Yes. I … thought that is what we decided this morning."
"I … Yeah. I was just checking. That it's not just for now, or for Tali. Not, like, dedicated to coparenting, together. But … partners, together."
"No. I … I love you, Tony, and my hope is that things seem to go easier and end with fewer deaths and bombings when I just admit that," she smiled ruefully. "So yes, I would like to be … together."
He leaned in and kissed her. "I love you too." He was still in awe of this new, (comparatively) open Ziva. It already led to far fewer miscommunications and missed opportunities. "We've got this," he said, emphasizing the we. "Tali needs a bath?"
She snapped back to the present. "Yes. I will show you. She is a bit of a duck. She likes them quite a bit when there are plenty of bath toys."
His dad had, of course, purchased said bath toys, as well as a ducky bathrobe with a bill on its hoodie. Tony filled the tub with water and baby bubbles as Ziva shimmied Tali out of her clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Ziva tested the water temperature quickly with her fingers, then lowered Tali into the tub as the toddler shrieked with excitement. He distracted her with toys as Ziva scrubbed her, narrating to him in English and conversing with Tali in Hebrew the entire time. Halfway through they switched places, and she flicked water lightly at both of them as she walked Tony through baby shampoo. "And then you tip her head back and run the water through it," she said, before giving Tali instructions in Hebrew. She complied obediently.
"What'd you tell her?"
"To put her chin high in the air," Ziva said, puffing a bubble at Tali. "Tony — I do take her speaking Hebrew and being Jewish very seriously, just so you know. I want her to know and have a less complicated relationship with her heritage."
He inhaled and exhaled deeply. "That makes sense," he said. "There's probably some classes at a synagogue I could take so I'm not completely lost, right? And I read about a Hebrew immersion charter school opening soon a few miles away; they have a preschool. We could send her there."
She cast her eyes quickly and down to the left. "Yes, perhaps. I will look into that." She gave him a quick kiss and rose. "I need to finish dinner and put the cake in the oven. You have this under control, yes?"
"Uh, sure?"
"Just do not make her turn into a raisin!" Ziva called, already most of the way to the kitchen.
He turned back to Tali. "You ready to get out?" he asked. She slammed a boat into the water, creating a huge wave in response, and laughed heartily.
Well then.
They played in the water until it was too tepid even for her, and he lifted her out before draining the tub. As he was toweling her off the doorbell rang, and Ziva yelled, "Tony! Can you get that?"
"One sec!" he yelled, swaddling Tali in the robe. "Here. Play with Kelev," he said, giving her the dog and jumping over the gate he'd installed in front of his bedroom door. "Abba'll be right back."
He ran for the door, tried to be cool as he swung it open to reveal McGee and Bishop. "Hey, guys, welcome. Come in; I just have to —" Tali, vibrantly yellow in her robe, ran straight past him into the kitchen. "Incoming, Ziva," he called. He heard Ziva's exclamation, then Tali-giggles.
"Natalia Rivka Elisheva DiNozzo, nisit livroach m'abba?," Ziva said with a laughing chuckle as she carted Tali under her arm back into the main room. The last name made him startle. "She escaped," she smirked, passing her off to Tony. "Gates are merely challenges."
"Damn ninja genes," he responded.
"Just get the PJ's on. She will fall asleep anyways," Ziva instructed.
"Got it," he said. "Make yourselves at home, guys," he told the other two.
"Can I get your anything to drink? There is a Cabernet and a Riesling," Ziva asked.
McGee and Bishop stared between two of them, then flicked their eyes over the living room which, while straightened up, still had plenty of toys and baby crap all over. If pressed, Tony would have to describe the scene as domestic. He felt a little sheepish, but was determined to fake normality till they made it. Everyone else would fall in line.
"Riesling sounds great," Bishop said after a beat. Tony turned to deal with Tali, who was squirming hard.
"Red," McGee added, looking stunned.
Tony jammed Tali into pink-and-blue footie pajamas that reminded him vaguely of peppermints, barely getting them on before she dashed out of the room again. "Ziva, you've, uh, settled in quite nicely," he heard McGee said as he followed Tali back to the living room. She predictably ran straight to Ziva.
"It is important that Tali have a routine," she replied, and he recognized (and approved) of this strategy immediately: torture McGee via deflection. "Besides, Tim, you know that I am able to adapt quickly." She took one look at Tali's messy, wet hair and rifled through her purse for a brush and tie.
"True," McGee replied, taking a generous swig of his wine. "So this is Tali," he tried.
"Yes," Ziva smiled, kneeling behind a suddenly-shy Tali to deal with the hair. "Tali, Tagidi Shalom l Tim and Ellie?"
"Sh'lom," she whispered with a small wave, folding backwards into her mother.
"She is very outgoing normally but is not good with strangers, right, neshomeleh?" she said.
"She sure got used to Tony quickly," Bishop blurted out, surprised, before realizing how that might sound. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Of course," Ziva said evenly, daring comments. "He is her abba."
"Where is everyone?" Tony changed the subject. "Abby, Ducky, Palmer? Are they still coming?"
"Yeah, Abby was wrapping some stuff up with Monroe and Reeves," McGee said. "Running some more analyses on the potential Kort evidence."
"How's that going?" Tony asked. "Catch me up. I'm planning on coming in tomorrow."
"You are?" Bishop asked.
"Why wouldn't I?" He'd already lost a day; now that things seemed more under control he mostly wanted to get the bastard.
"Yeah but being here seems like it might be more important," Bishop said.
"I for one will be very grateful when Kort is taken care of," Ziva chimed in. "It will be a relief when he is killed or captured."
His ears prickled at that — while he agreed, he could hear echoes of a near-lifetime ago. "Even if there is always another monster?" he quoted curiously. He had always viewed that conversation, more than anything else, as the beginning of the end of Ziva's time in law enforcement, when she began her long, tortured path to punishing herself (and him) for redemption.
Ziva's arms closed protectively around Tali's waist. "Tony, he bombed the house where I slept with Tali," she said tightly. "He has been terrorizing us, in one form or another, since 2007. I do not want you — any of you — making targets of yourselves but yes, in this instance — yes, I will feel nothing but gratitude when he is disposed of."
There was certainly more for the two of them to discuss, but not in front of guests. "So yeah, I'm coming in tomorrow," he said after a beat.
The doorbell rang again, and Bishop swung the door open to reveal Abby, Ducky, Palmer, and his father. "There she is!" Abby exclaimed, going straight for Tali. She stopped two feet short. "Does she get scared of new people?"
"Only at first," Ziva said. "Otherwise she is a bit of a ham. Here, Tali, this is Abby."
"Abba," she said, confused, pointing at Tony.
"Awww, that's so cute!" Abby said. "Can I be Doda?" I read that's 'Aunt.' I get to be aunt, right?"
"Of course," Ziva said, with grace. "Say shalom, Tali." Instead of responding, though, Tali buried her head in her mother's neck.
"She's beautiful, Ziva," Ducky said kindly. "Truly, she is the best of both of you."
The chitchat was fragile for a bit but eventually relaxed with familiarity and alcohol. Adults passed a pliant Tali from lap, cooing and exclaiming and attempting to make her laugh, until Ziva decreed they should eat. "Yes! I have missed your cooking, Ziva," Palmer said, scooting Tali off his lap and holding her finger to walk her over.
"You cooked in addition to being a super-secret agent?" Bishop asked warily.
"Ziva's good at most things," Tony offered boldly, because it was true. He tested the high chair to make sure Senior had assembled it properly, then lifted Tali into it. "Except knitting. She tried that once and she sucked."
"And Tony has always been a charmer," she replied. "It is very straightforward tonight — simply lasagna, salad, bread, and a cake from a box."
"Perfect, my dear," Senior replied, kissing her temple. "I think I speak for everyone when I say we came for the company more than anything else."
"On that note," Ziva said as he settled Tali into the high chair between the two of them and the adults took their seats. "I would just like to — briefly — say thank you all for coming. It has been an … eventful and chaotic and surprising twenty-four hours, and many of you are still in the middle of an active, ongoing investigation for a man who has tried to destroy things that all of us hold dear. I think that makes it even more important that we take some time to be together. And given everything I have done or not done over the last three years — well. I am incredibly grateful for your presence, here." He reached over, took her hand, and she rubbed her thumb over the meat of his palm absentmindedly.
"And you, my dear — it is beyond wonderful to see you safe, and in the flesh, and to meet the lovely Tali. The only thing you ever need to do, at the end of the day, is to come home," Ducky said. "And are we to infer that perhaps some feelings have rekindled themselves this afternoon?"
Ziva squeezed his hand, and he picked up on the signal. "There's a lot to work out, yes, but we're partners. We plan to do so together."
"I knew it!" Abby crowed. "God, Ziva, I'm so happy to have you back. And you two — it's like a movie ending, you know?"
"Movie's not over," Tony reminded her. Hell, it had barely begun.
"Yes, life is not like the movies. There is plenty to work out," Ziva added.
"What does that mean? You are back, right? To stay?" Abby demanded.
Ziva hesitated, and suddenly he remembered — her Paris job. With the UN. Her caginess clicked. "I'm here, now. Tony and I are together, as parents and as partners, personally. But like he said, there is much to discuss."
"Like what?" Abby demanded. "I'm not mad — I know everyone expects me to be mad. But I love you and respect you have their reasons, even if they're not the choices I would make." That was a first from Abby. "Because I know you love Tony. And us. So why isn't it that simple?"
"Abs —" McGee started.
"Well, to start with: Tali's last name. What language she should speak at home. Whether or not we want to live together immediately or give ourselves some space at first. Dog versus cat. Who takes out the trash. Who has to talk to Senior when he drops two grand on toys." His father made a pained cry of protest. "All of that stuff. All of the other stuff that came before that in our ten years of not talking about issues. And we're still us, too, so chances are one of us may end up injured in the process. We know you love us, we know you're excited and … you'll know stuff when we know stuff," Tony interjected.
There was a pause as everyone processed. Then McGee said: "Remember all their fights about Ziva's driving? This'll be fun."
"Or who got to detonate the bombs and shoot the bad guys," Abby added.
"The battles over the Mighty Mouse stapler," Ducky chortled. "And did you not lick his ear to wake him up as he slept through a sexual-harassment seminar?"
"She did! And remember when Tony put her through the probie hazing? Going through the Dumpsters at every crime scene? I thought she was going to kill him and McGee." Now it was Palmer's turn to chime in.
"And how mad was he when she didn't invite him to her dinner party and then he got shot," Abby tossed out.
"That was flirting, not a fight," Ziva amended. He knew it.
"It says a lot that you intentionally engineered a fight to flirt," Senior added.
"Oh, any time Senior tried to hit on Ziva," Abby. "That was fun to watch them argue about. Not that you're not the most charming person I've ever met, Mr. DiNozzo. I'll totally go undercover as your date any time, Senior." His dad winked exaggeratedly.
"Does this surprise anyone? The first thing she said to me was to ask if I was having phone sex," Tony interrupted before his dad asked Abby out.
"I don't believe I ever got a straight answer, either," Ziva retorted with a smirk.
"You know, I never believed what everyone said, and I think I get it now," Bishop said.
"What did people say?" Tony asked.
"You don't want to know," McGee cut in quickly, and everyone laughed.
Conversation relaxed and expanded again. Ziva expertly fed the kid with one hand while talking to Ellie (them getting along pleased him, for some reason), and his father displaced him to sit next to Tali. He, Tim, and Ducky discussed the case, with Abby interjecting into nearly every conversation happening. Ziva shared a few stories of her life in Israel — her degree, her garden, her meddlesome aunts. At some point Tali started pushing away Ziva's hand with a no, though, and playing with the food instead of eating it. After one especially vicious swipe, Ziva clicked twice to get his attention, and nodded at Tali, who was turning red. "I need to get her to bed," she said quietly, leaning over Senior. "She's about to start crying."
"What do we do?"
"Get her away from everyone. Now," Ziva said, lifting Tali out of the chair as her voice began to rise into a tremulous wail. He quickly followed her into the living room, shutting the doors behind them. "Normally there is a song I sing, and I like to read her a story," she explained, pacing slowly, her fingers tracing a lazy pattern on Tali's back as they cries, never pitched to full-blow, dissolved into whimpers and gasps. "I think that she is close to sleep, though." She stopped. "Do you want her?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. The motion … soothes her. Here," she said, carefully transferring Tali to his arms. "Just … walk with her." He made a few circles but she seemed to be zooming into dreamland; eventually he just stood and swayed, whispering a shhh into her ear. Ziva, next to him, rubbed her back and hummed a melody he vaguely recognized. Once she'd settled firmly asleep, they lowered her into the Pak'n'Play and shut the French doors to the dining room.
"That was easy," he joked, running his hand down her spine, and she laughed hard as they retook their seats.
"This was so great," Abby said once the clock neared ten. "But, you know … case. I need to get back to the lab."
"Gibbs gave us three hours," McGee explained. "We'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. We'll be in," Tony confirmed.
"We. I like the sound of that," Abby said, hugging Ziva tightly.
They left. "So my replacement," Ziva said, conversationally. "Very well adjusted."
"Yeah, she's a good kid," Tony said, then winced. Bishop was only about three or four years younger than Ziva. Though Ziva was a lot younger than him. Which he didn't want to think about. "Two parents, both alive. Doesn't show up in Gibbs' basement to drink his bourbon. She's getting divorced right now though. It's tough."
"Well she seems tough," Ziva said, moving to clear the dishes. "More wine?"
"Sure," he said, collecting a few glasses. "I thought that went well, overall." Certainly Abby was better-behaved than he had even hoped or dreamed of.
"Yes," she replied, scrubbing distractedly at a plate.
"Gibbs needed to be with Fornell right now," he reminded her, deducing her concerns. "He thinks you and Tali are safe, here. You're like a daughter to him, but Fornell's his brother."
"I know," she said, and he knew it was true. She poured his wine and passed him the glass.
"I … got you something today," he remembered, fishing a flattened white paper bag out of his pocket.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"I know that your original Star of David necklace was your grandmother's and your mother's. And that Gibbs got you your new one which is kind of … familial too, you know? And that's the one I still have. So I figured you would probably want it to go to Tali, one day. So … I got you a new one." He unrolled the edge of the paper bag, pulled out the plastic bag within, tore it a bit as he tried to undo the tape flapped over the open side. The necklace, a little tangled, gleams golden in the kitchen light. "There's a ruby in the center, for Tali's birthstone."
Her mouth hung open, speechless. "When —"
"After the park," he said. "Tali helped pick it out."
"It is beautiful," she said, finally. "Help me put it on?" She turned, scooted into his space, pulled her cloud of hair to the side to expose her neck. He looped the chain around her throat, fastened it, trailed a series of kisses down her neck as she sunk back closer to him. Eventually she turned; planting her hands on his hips, kissed him on the mouth.
They made out languidly for a few minutes before he asked, "Want to watch a movie?"
She pulled back. "Tali is sleeping in the living room," she pointed out, then arched her eyebrows. "We should probably just go to the bedroom, no?"
He loved the way she thought.
She pulled him through the living room, pausing briefly to check on a snoring Tali ("your genes," she teased, and he was so excited he didn't even retort), before gently pressing him into the door until it clicked shut.
Her skin was silk under his palms; her mouth and hands greedily roamed up and down and then all over. "God I've missed this," he muttered as her hands went for his belt, and he started walking them both in the direction of the bed. They had always, no matter how tempestuous their emotional and professional relationship had been, connected very well on a physical level. Her hands stilled, and he could sense an apology on the tip of her (still shoved in his mouth) tongue. He moved his mouth to kiss the dip in her shoulder. "Don't. We're good, Zi." He found the eyehooks on her bra and popped it open before cupping a breast.
She pulled out his belt, then crossed her arms to lift her own shirt. Her bra dangled uselessly off her shoulders, and he ran a finger under one of the straps to take it off. Naked from the waist up, glowing and wild, she smiled at him before looping her hands around his neck and pulling him down.
They took it slow, reacquainting themselves with the new curves and dips and valleys of the other's bodies. She had new curves from Tali, which were wondrous; his hair had greyed (less wondrous), and she looked with alarm at a new scar on his bicep, where a suspect had winged him eight months ago. He muttered a "You're amazing," when he started kissing down her sternum to her belly button, but for the most part they were silent, using hands and mouths to express what the words could not. Slow was a foreign concept to them — with the exception of the summer Gibbs had been drinking tequila, their "connections" were usually emotionally fraught (though he supposed this also qualified) — and he reveled in it. There would be plenty of time for frenetic "Thank God you're alive" sex later. They were also much quieter than he remembered — a groan, a suck, a moan, a gasp as he sank into her, hooking her leg behind his hip as she arced toward him, but not the laughter and banter they'd always been good at.
He liked this just as much, maybe even better.
They'd both been non-cuddlers in the past (with a few exceptions, like in Paris and Berlin — basically, on non-American soil), but when they were finished she pillowed her head on his chest, sighed softly as she traced patterns and twirled her fingers into his chest hair. "I've missed this too," she admitted. "It is a relief to know — that still works."
He gave her a half-skeptical, half-leering look. "Come on. You knew it would be good."
"True," she said, laving a needy kiss onto his neck. "You are really going in tomorrow?"
"Well, yeah, Zi. You told me to," he said.
"I know," she said. "I just … This is nice."
He tilted his head. "I can stay," he said, though they both knew he would not.
"No. I really do want him caught. Or dead. I … I really do want to live a peaceful life. And it is not easy whenever an old comrade of my father tries to kill me."
"And you think it'll be easier in Paris?" he asked, bringing up the subject that they'd both been avoiding. The New Them discussed problems head-on.
If she was surprised that he was bringing it up, living up to the promise of the New Them, she did not show it. "I do," she said. "But more importantly, the job that is there … I am truly excited for it, Tony. I chose it, Tony. I can be good at this; I can help people."
"And … You still want this — us — at the same time?"
"Yes. Absolutely," she said, and he made a well, then, what? gesture. "I was going to call when I got there. You know that. I want you to come to Paris," she said, sitting up and running a hand across his chest and over the bicep on the other side of his body. He tensed automatically at the proposition. "I am serious. You love Paris. We can show it off to Tali. We can get an apartment in the Seventh and go to museums on the weekends and the beaches in Italy in the summer."
"What would I do in Paris?"
"Anything you want. Work for DHS or Interpol or with State. God knows there is plenty to investigate there. Be with with Tali all day, if that is what you want, make up for the years I took from you. Write a screenplay. Eat croissants and drink coffee and buy a mo-ped." She shifted up, animated. "Tony, I am completely serious. This job is exciting for me, yes, but I think this is more exciting for us. It is time for new adventures and a kind of partnership, I think. Paris is … A fresh start. For us. For us and Tali."
"DC is home. Gibbs, Abby, McGee…"
"Love us, and will understand, and will probably come and spend a month with us at the holidays." She touched his cheek. "It does not have to be forever. It will probably not be forever. They are family, after all, and we both have so little of it I do not want to deprive her of that love while it is around. But we—" she thumbed his cheekbone as she worked through her realizations, "we have both spent so long chasing permanence in fixed things. New citizenship, new homes, highly secured apartments, never-changing teams, cultural traditions … They do not offer those, because they are external, and change is inevitable." She gripped his hand. "I am not saying we will have no problems if we move to Paris, or that it will be easy—"
"Ziva David, I knew from the second you entered the bullpen you would not be easy," he cracked, and she leaned over to shut him up with a deep, happy kiss.
"And I have never pretended otherwise," she smiled, pulling back before he could get too frisky. "But nothing we have tried has offered either of us permanency or security. Except for each other. You have been a constant since I was twenty-two, Tony. My entire adult life. And the only thing I have learned is that … Home is not a place; home is you. And I am tired of fighting that fact for shadows and for the greater good and for Gibbs' rules and for fear. I am … happy, happier than I even imagined, to be home. With you. I have realized that today. And I think we have been doing everything exactly wrong. If you are my home … Why stay in DC? There are so many ghosts here, too, more than Israel. Ari. Kate. Jeanne. Michael. Jenny. My father. Jackie. Why not do something for us, and to give ourselves the best shot and wonderful memories and to give our daughter experiences she will get nowhere else?"
He didn't have a good answer for that. "Tell me about the job," he finally said.
Her features softened. "It will be wonderful, Tony. It's through UNHCR, based in Paris but with some travel, I think. I started working with them at a camp for Syrian refugees, through a friend. It's going to be programmatic. I will be working with women and children to connect them to resources, like schools and available housing, and language courses, and jobs. It is a little bit like social work or counseling, I suppose, but I will be primarily running the programming — finding and making those connections. The laws and borders are changing rapidly so there is much to stay on top of. And I think I will teach a few self-defense classes, too, and there is a need to develop some assimilation programming, to help them acclimate to new European cultural norms. It is hard work, yes, but it will be good work." Her eyes shone.
"I am," she said, "And I want to share it with you."
He paused. There was so much to work out, so much in the air, and so much yet to say. But he had no good rebuttals to her arguments. "So. The Seventh. That's the fancy one, right?"